


Etherial

by Hambone



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Closets, Laughter, M/M, Sticky Sex, mild exhibitionism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-10 03:42:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2009643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hambone/pseuds/Hambone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodimus and Drift scare the crew.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Etherial

**Author's Note:**

> A request for breadsy on my Tumblr! This was really sweet and fun to write, I hope you like it!

“Maybe this was…not the best idea, Rodimus.”

“What the hell do you mean by that?”

He was laughing. They both were, to an extent, Drift’s nervous chuckles certainly on a more subdued level than Rodimus’s barely stifled tittering. Drift shifted, not sure if he was trying to get a better or worse look at his Capitan’s face and not succeeding with either. The closet was just too small.

“You know what I mean,” he finally whispered, tucking his face down. Rodimus pulled him closer, half hugging and half groping as he breathed a few more hisses of laughter into his receptor.

“No, Mister Third in Command, I think you’re gonna have to,” he rubbed the crest of his knee between Drift’s thighs, “ _elaborate.”_

He attempted a smooth, seductive tone that was completely ruined by the halting giggles still slipping out between every other word. Drift swooned anyways.

“Ultra Magnus is going to kill us!”

Rodimus kissed a line down his helm finial, humming dismissively.

“Scratch that, actually, because he isn’t going to kill you. He’s going to yell at you and maybe make you spend a night in lock up. He’s going to kill _me._ ”

“He’s not gonna kill you,” Rodimus soothed, still insistently nudging his knee against Drift, “not if the ship’s Capitan resists the charge.”

Drift worried his lip between his teeth, spreading his legs despite himself. Rodimus’s hands were worming their way down his back, playing between seams and pinching the tips of his sword case, twisting against the wing tips until his cooling fans were sputtering to life against all manual protocol he had set up.

(They would have turned on the moment Rodimus had grasped his hand and swept him out of the hall otherwise, and that was after weeks of schooling himself. there was just something about the casual bravery, the ease of center Rodimus commanded that made him dizzy just to think about, and he did not want that fact to get out. Still, sometimes he found himself worrying about the fast whirling of his spark, the unsteady jump in its beat that came every time he found himself held close to his captain’s body. He still could not believe that he had gotten this lucky, that he lived this life, able to not only bask in the presence of but touch and communicate with Rodimus’s light, perhaps, he wished in his darkest of times, soaking some of it up within himself, taking some of the energy Rodimus brought with him everywhere and learning to emit it himself.)

“That won’t work if he declares you temporarily unable to perform your duties like he keeps threatening to.”

He hissed the words between teeth and tongue, trying hard not to laugh again as Rodimus nipped his throat. He was, even through all his fears, giddy with pleasure, his own hands having found their way to Rodimus’s hips long ago and beginning to dig down to the sensitive wire beneath. Rodimus growled happily, rotating his pelvis into the touches with a challenge in his optic.

“That requires at least three other people on board to agree that I’m unfit. No one’s gonna do that to me; half of them owe me and the other half at least likes me a little.”

On _this_ ship? Drift stiffened somewhat, not wanting to speak his mind. There were maybe two bots on the Lost Light who wouldn’t agree with Magnus out of fear or the desire to stir up a good story, and he doubted Perceptor was going to be anywhere near the personal decks at this time of day. He was married to his work.

“Um…”

“If you’re gonna make noise, make it noise I like hearing.”

Rodimus kissed him flush on the mouth before he could try and contradict him and every negative spot of light in his aura peeled away, his processor registering nothing but bliss. He sank his frame to better allow Rodimus room to maneuver, squeezing his thumbs hard into the fistfuls of metal he held. It was hard but quick and when Rodimus pulled away Drift was amazed, once again, by his ability to look so casual after such an intense moment. Licking his lips, he teased his longue along his teeth, watching Drift watch him.

“You aren’t gonna get killed or thrown in the brig or whatever. I promise.”

“Uh-huh.”

Drift nodded dumbly, enthralled by the small but provocative show. Rodimus’s expression took on a rare softer tone.

“You try and trust me on this, okay?”

“I do.”

He meant it. He tilted his helm forward and pressed his forehead to Rodimus’s, and for a half klik they just stood there, breathing each other’s air. of course, Rodimus could not stand still for too long, made for not the moment but the future, and suddenly Drift was rising through the air, kicking out in reflex to no avail as he was hoisted up on his Capitan’s hips.

“Rodimus!” he covered his mouth as soon as he’d shouted it and they were again still, though this time it was far less sweet.

Nothing happened, though. The deep thrum of the engines beneath them continued, the various pipes above them warbling away, and the hall outside remained silent apart from the shivering echoes of the upper levels.  It took them both exhaling to realize they’d been holding their breath and it prompted another small round of laughter. This time Drift allowed himself to shed his nerves, burying his nose against Rodimus’s crest and snorting loudly.

“This is a bad idea,” he said and Rodimus mouthed at his chest in lieu of response. From this angle his arms could only wrap around Rodimus’s head, his waist long enough to curve nicely as Rodimus backed him into the wall for better support. He ran his palms along the glistening spoiler wings and smiled widely at the shiver it elicited. Rodimus mumbled something against his chest but he couldn’t make it out and was a little afraid of trying to ask as another sharp nip to the corner of his breastplate made his toes curl.

“I think it’s a great idea and you will too if you just stop worrying about it and let me show you.”

Drift had stopped worrying about five kisses ago and simply clung tighter in response, making Rodimus shudder again as he worked his fingers around the joints connecting spoiler to back. Rodimus’s hands no longer had to support his aft since the wall had taken over, and while he missed the teasing tickle of his fingers there he much preferred where they were now, swiping long paths of heat between his belly and thighs, up and down, over and over until the plating tingled. He bit the edge of Rodimus’s pointed crown, only hinting at how much power his jaws really held, and Rodimus snickered again.

He pushed his hips against Drift’s and they both moaned quietly at the contact, burning. Rodimus smiled up at him, optics flashing.

“Come on.”

It took Drift a hazy moment to realize what he meant, swallowing thickly as their pelvic plating ground together slowly. Sighing in slow defeat, Drift let his head roll back on his shoulders, exposing his throat as he smiled languidly.

“Okay.”

His legs slid into a more comfortable position around him, angling his interface paneling directly against Rodimus’s crotch. He could feel the heat wafting between them, even as their fans both worked hard to normalize the temperature in the tiny room. Shooting Rodimus a smarmy look, he bit his lips, this time reversing the game of seduction as he let his lower panels divide and slide back, baring his intimate equipment to the elements. Rodimus groaned.

“Oh, that’s hot, that’s- wow.”

He bumped their hips together again, trapping Drift’s spike between their stomachs and making him jump and moan thinly. Drift smiley loftily, looking down at Rodimus’s pleased expression. It was genuine, and sweet, and he practically glowed with pleasure in the darkness.

“Don’t I get something in return?”

He was trying to be cocky but he spoke too soon, Rodimus’s thick spike pushing up under his aft before he’d finished the question. He flickered, embarrassed, but Rodimus had his face buried in Drift’s neck already, moaning more loudly than he should have as he rubbed himself against the slowly growing wetness between them. A little overwhelmed by the situation, Drift clung to his shoulders more fiercely, holding his tongue for worry of misspeaking again. That and his lingering fear of being found out. Regardless of what Rodimus said, it was still embarrassing to think someone might hear them or, Primus preserve them, actually open the door and _see_ their intimate coil.

Still, Rodimus’s persistent confidence mellowed him, and he relaxed into the frotting, bucking his own hips both to better stimulate Rodimus and to get more friction against his willowy spike, still trapped against his gut. He shuddered, almost giggling again as Rodimus ran a hand down his spine. His swords clanked against the sides of the closet, too wild as they moved.

“Hurry,” he choked out, kicking his heels against Rodimus’s aft as he didn’t even bother with a clever response, too keyed up to deny him a nano-klik longer. His spike nosed bluntly between Drift’s valve folds, sliding into place with practiced ease. The movement was not sharp or sudden, the connection made easing a sigh out of them both. Drift squeezed Rodimus, kissing his forehead.

“Yes, yes-!”

“So hot, Drift, you’re always so slaggin’ hot.”

His back bowed and they collided again, the first thrust enough to knock Drift audibly back against the wall. Both of them jumped, and Rodimus once again made his enjoyment loudly known. Drift was beyond caring, bracing his back against the wall so as to move them together himself, hissing steam from his vents. All the praise was getting to his head, making him swim in blurry pleasure. Rodimus brought a hand to their connection, even as the thrust, rubbing two fingers along the open spread of Drift’s valve, tugging on his rosy nub.

As he braced himself against the wall, pulling their hips together ever harder, Drift heard something. At first he ignored it because there were lots of soft ambient sounds surrounding them and he had much more important things on his processor, but it grew and grew and eventually he was forced to wonder about it. Then, that wonder turned to panic as he realized what it was.

“Rodimus!” he hissed, trying to brace himself against his partner and stop their movement, “Rodimus, there’s someone out there!”

To his credit, Rodimus did pause, listening. Every shift of their bodies allowed another scrape of metal on metal to ring out, made Drift bite his lip harder at the still throbbing spike tugged involuntarily on his nodes. Sure enough, someone was out there – two someones, in fact. A couple walking down this abandoned crack of the ship together, blabbering on about something. Great.

Praying they would just leave off, Drift was paying far more attention to what was outside than Rodimus, so when his Capitan drew back and thrust again he was taken completely by surprise.

_What are you doing_ he mouthed, horrified by the clangs and squelches the actions produced. Rodimus winked at him, huffing with effort as he thrust again. Drift was mortified but found himself heating even more at the idea, at Rodimus’s confidence in the face of potential discovery. Not that he wanted to see the real time events that would take place if someone did hear them, and he tightened every joint in his body in hopes of alleviating some of the extra jangle created by the quickening pace of movement as Rodimus once again found their rhythm. He tried to say something else, but Rodimus was again at his throat with teeth bared and he was too afraid to raise his voice under these conditions.

“I dunno, I think this kind of stuff is creepy.”

“That’s cuz you’re a wimp.”

Whoever was outside was apparently not keen on leaving quickly, and the voices lingered nearly direct in front of their chosen closet. Drift’s optics widened marginally in panic but Rodimus changed his angle and actually moaned at his spike slid deeper than before. Flailing in a bit of sensory incompetence, Drift slammed a hand over his own mouth, but Rodimus made no effort to drown out his own joyful sound. As terrified as he was, the voices in the hallway did not cease their inane chatter or come any closer, and he wheezed a small thank to Primus that the walls were better insulated than he’s assumed.

Even with all his upset, it felt amazing. Rodimus was good with his hips, hitting the right angle at the right time. Drift tightened his thighs around his waist and reveled in it, the way his smooth shaft caressed every swollen node inside himself. Rodimus bit at him again, grinning around his mouthful, and Drift forgot himself, keening.

“I really don’t think there’s anything over he-”

“Did you hear that?”

As it was it took Drift a second of recovery to recognize they were talking about him, about his exclamation. He panicked.

“Rodimus, Rodimus stop-!”

Rodimus stumbled a little, his balance wavering as Drift struggled, trying to say something but unable as they nearly tumbled over.

“Yeah, that clanging. What is that?”

They both froze, awkwardly hugged to one another, Rodimus’s spike still lodged firmly in Drift’s valve. Drift’s calipers tightened as he tensed and he could not stop the small moan that gurgled from his sealed lips as it made every acute throb of them together well known. His intakes hitched as the steps got closer, curiously meandering.

“Do you think it was…?”

“What?”

“Another, you know. Another…”

The next part was whispered and Drift couldn’t make it out, but judging by the loud gasp of horror the other mech hardly attempted to repress it was probably something about the sparkeater. He looked at Rodimus, hoping beyond rational hope that his Capitan had a plan, but Rodimus looked equally nervous now, optics flickering between him and the door. Of course the gravity of their situation would only set in when it was too late.

“Maybe it’s…it came from over here…”

The footsteps approached. Drift tugged at Rodimus, begging. Giving him a look, as if steeling himself, Rodimus mouthed something he couldn’t see.

Then, Rodimus let out an energon-curdling scream.

The reaction was instantaneous, the mechs in the hallway screaming themselves, clanging as if they were tripping over their own feet. One of them yelled something unintelligible to the other, high and frightened, and their companion replied with the ever useful command to _RUN!_

And then they were alone.

Drift gaped at his Capitan in disbelief.

“Did you…did you just…?”

They both dissolved into laughter. Their combined weight became too much for Rodimus, but he brought them down slowly, bracing Drift’s shaking aft on his knees as he rocked with mirth, seemingly a little shocked himself that it had worked. They clashed their foreheads together again, staring into each other’s optics blearily as their spasms of giggles occasionally broke off into fevered kissing, tongues sloppily battling until drool shone down their chins. Somehow the shaking had worked charge back up between them and even as their laughter continued Rodimus worked them together again.

It wasn’t longer before their vents were hitching, Drift burying his face in Rodimus’s shoulder as he hiccupped a hint that he was close to cumming. Rodimus was too, leaning back against the closet wall himself as he braced his hands on Drift’s waist, thrusting up into him with wild abandon. Now that he had room for it Drift brought his own hand down to stroke his external node, breath coming out in high gasps. His legs were shaking, the wet air of the closet condensing around his thighs and mixing with the wet globs of lubricant already streaking down between them.

Rodimus’s spike twitched and Drift squealed, both of them managing to overload at nearly the exact same time. He collapsed onto his Capitan, valve ripping as three hot jets of transfluid filled him, a steady pulse of his own release flooding out around his thighs. From this close, chest to chest, he could almost believe he could feel Rodimus’s spark, thrumming away behind his sharp plating. They wrapped their arms around one another and held tight as the shock died away, Rodimus still snuffling a titter every few kliks. For a while, the steady beat of the ship around them was the only noise.

“I can’t believe that worked.”

Drift nuzzled his chest, purring contentedly.

“Of course it did.”


End file.
